who are/were you?

Are you comfortable in your skin? is there a hollow or a ache, a longing or a absent sense of belonging? Yeah thats ok, i have it too. A piece of me is missing. I have my own black hole inside me. But, I am ok with that. I haven’t blogged in a long time, due to alot of reasons. When i become somewhat depressed if you will. I close down. I let very few people in. This is normal – I am told. My photography has always been a strength or resource to get me through the depression, to release the emotions the thoughts, to set them free. Before my lungs implode, from holding my breath, while screaming at myself not to cry. I learnt a very sharp lesson a few weeks ago.I was hospitalized because of previous physical problems. And in that week I learnt who everyone around me truly was. I had people who were two faced finally splatter how they felt and who they were at me. It was disgusting, and to be honest a welcomed relief. I wiped away the bitter and cynical slathering of a perspective that was projectile vomited onto me by this person. There was another person who i also let go from my life. This was a figure who comes with expectations when they are blood related, or at least paternal. But, i had alot of closure from their departure. A sense of relief and a knot that disintegrated in my stomach as soon as I saw the ‘real’ them. Again i wiped away the negativity that spat from their tongue. And like a snake shedding skin i felt anew. I decided to loose a man from my life and it was ultimately the fact that whenever i come to be in a situation whereby all i needed was emotional support, he is beyond unavailable. He was more….. ummm in a selfish coma of his own. But, there agin he always was. |I saw this man foe who he was, selfish and ignorant, and arrogant. I had seen these traits before, but they stung a little more this time.

When the fluorescent lights click off and the distant cough or shuffle of bed sheets on a ward are all you are comforted by. You realise who you actually would love to be there with you. The constant drugs through IV keep me numb enough not to scream or cry myself to sleep. The thoughts that whispered like the blue dressed ghosts on the night shift came and went. Leaving a sting in my body, somewhere. While in hospital i lost the choice. I had been told i was ‘lucky’ to survive. I had been told ‘it is time.’

It is a phrase that whirls as i go to sleep now….. ‘It is time.’ The time whereby a decision is made by you, for you. Or it is a decision made by another for you. I made so many decisions in that hospital stay. To lock two people out of my life. To welcome the one in and try to not loose him – i’m still working on that one. Also to never let myself believe or trust the intentions or words of the compulsive sleazy liar i knew didn’t care for anyone but himself and his needs. I made a decision he was a boy. He was/is/always immature, selfish and gutless. A coward to himself. I left that hospital knowing my dad loved me, even though he was estranged (through no fault of his own) for my childhood through to my adulthood. It was time to make a decision, and I did. I went to Paris and done my wedding work. I tried to make something work and I failed. Well i didn’t, just some people will never change its in their DNA. I decided to finish my last year in Uni and go to my graduation ceremony next year – I wasn’t going to go. And i have to book seats. So i decided that i want my dad to see one of my achievements, as he was denied so many. My uncle, whom is a/was a massive influence in my early years and later years in my life. Even his absences was a influence.A driving force so to speak. And my daughter as if it weren’t for her I am pretty certain i wouldn’t be here. And because she has had to sacrifice certain things while i study, and never once has she complained. The child who has given me more of everything, and anything, than i could ever hope to give.

The people in my life now are people whom I dearly love. From BBQs up my amazing dad’s, with my closest friend James, and my oldest friend Mark, to the ever surprising Justin. All of these men know me. They know me and observe me and connect to me for different reasons. These men combined have a weight to them. A sturdiness in my life. They have such vastly different backgrounds, and previous and current professions, and hobbies and interests. Yet, me my dad, James, mark and Justin sat with a current of intrigue and interest in each other. A genuine one a pure love, and energy driven by respect and principals. It would of taken my Uncle to of been there for it to be my favourite place and scene in the whole world. The lesson I learnt that night, was what comes with love. With the love I can relate too and understand. If i know someone loves me I can feel it. I can feel it in their energy their tone. And then i know i am safe. Thats all anyone wants to be, is to be loved and safe. With being loved as a child by my uncle, I felt, I was safe. A protector from the woman i called my mother. – so If freud had any theories the early childhood linking of love is a pretty solid one for me.

So now I am a month on….. I am free of cervical cancer. I am awaiting a big operation. I am at peace with the people in my life. I love and dote on each one and thank the universe every day for their existence. As I was able to compare the standards I should hold a man too, what a man ‘should’ be and what a person should hope to be. I am never going to be comfortable in my skin, locked in a purgatory with my mind. But, I am comfortable with being uncomfortable. I laugh alot, I smile at every beautiful sky. I watch the way everything can be magic if you look at it from the right angle. I am excited to close a chapter on a person I never thought i could ever possibly not want in my life. But, with what they brought with them, I am happy they took it all with them too. My anxiety is beautiful my nails are long. My quick witt is back and my dark humour. My passion for life and fun and love is seeping from every pour. I broke and now ‘It is time’ to put everything back together again. My way. For me. As thats what i deserve and i will take from the universe, everyone and everything that ignites me.

 

Finally today someone said to me “Being around you luc, it kinda feels like being around someone famous, or different – Like the way you light up, and are so raw and honestly funny. The way your are its like a bubble and when i see you in person its surreal. Its like you give me something, but you dont give me anything. I just feel good” – I am hoping that  what he said i took the right way. I am a spark, I am light, and I can make someone feel alive. Its a gift. Its what makes me, me. And those who meet me or spend anytime with me, will understand what this means. Today soothed my soul in a way i needed it lifted and rejuvenated my energy. (she says at 1am)

 

Its ok to be lost, as long as you’re not lost and hurting people. Thats not ok.

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They are alive……

Its a one oclock blog again. I wonder why I do these blogs. I wonder who reads them, if anyone, and what they think. These are seconds that last for a moment and i am cautious of what i say. Then like the ticking of a clock my fingers sing on a keyboard and everything pours. I don’t like to think too much. As its never good. Not for me anyway. Relationships are funny things, you take two humans. These are from different walks of life, different values and experiences and throw them together. I always view the start of a relationship as a ……. Child playing with clay. When she has moulded her visions she then plays with them in her imaginary world of pretend. I think thats what we do, or I at least. I have a pretend world where i have made my clay man. To keep him there i have to play fair. To keep him strong and not for him to crack and crumble i have to understand the way he was made. But i don’t. I don’t understand me. So I am at a loss before i could ever conceive to win. Then in my pretend world everything is great. We can mould each other and smooth over the cracks. But in actuality it doesn’t get smoothed over. I choose my human and decided to love him and play with him in my pretend world. But i knew reality would make him crumble. I am just convincing myself i am now unloveable. Its not really the greatest ego boost that my ex cheated on me for two years and for the last year he still couldn’t be faithful. He would flirt with girls and send such pictures i would find out and feel sick. He handed me complex after complex and insecurities that made me shake.  Then i met another man, he was broken and not whole. I think i attract them you know.

I always saw a relationship of a somewhat unity. A team. If i was going to war the person i was with i would want on my platoon as i know they have my back. Yet i dated a guy a bullet, thats engraved and i wear it around my neck. It has a message inscribed but it was in the language he knew so a lie. I decided that I would wear it not because i love him, but because it was one of the many bullets in his gun that killed me and made me weak. But At least i knew he would never leave me. Then i met this other guy. No insecurities, no girls perfection could of been a good word. But then i spiralled and i fell and i descended to hell. Now my demobs are happy as they have me back. It was quiet lovely really how they welcomed me back. They stay up all night with me, and if ever i need company they are always there. I married demons so i can never marry a man.

I confided in a friend of what made me spiral. And as a friend does they show concern. It was nice to acknowledge the disease i have investigated and learnt thats eating me. Ooooooooh no this time its not my mind. This time its not my bipolar. I think if it wasn’t for my bipolar i maybe worse. I have the disease that consumes so many and that the word alone instills fear. It actually made me freeze. My blood ran so cold a splinter of ice must of pierced my heart, as i gasped for air. Cancer i dare. The womanly parts of me are being eaten alive. Im twenty nine and i have a unbalanced mind and a disease eating me alive. The insecurities rise and i feel bile thrown at the back of my throat. I could cry but i haven’t yet. Not over the thing that i just learnt. I think i’m numb or still coming to terms with this vile thing harbouring inside my womb. Like a spawn of satan i’m nurturing it and letting it feed on me. I am a beautiful host.  I actually can feel my breath unsteady as i filter through this truth. I admitted this two two people. Two which i trust and love and know would do anything to see me smile. But still i sit here in my ex boyfriends zip through hoodie, it faintly smells of him. Wearing dungarees bought for me as a sorry from the cheating ex, and the things i am wearing which look the best are fresh scars. Another chapter of my fucked up life. There was a time where my life was quiet happy and calm. Oh dear lord i wish for that again so bad. The marrow of my bone ache for it. They also ache for a warm embrace. But i know to be hugged would leave this little fighter with a tear stained face.

When it was revealed what i now have to face the cancer of a woman’s delicate place I was shocked nad scared then last night at 5 am i sat out my back garden. The stars weren’t too bright, but the warmth of the night kept me company. The sounds of cars passing on the road behind me made me smile. I wonder how their life differes from mine. I thought about writing, but couldn’t bare to hold my favourite pen. Then a thought crossed my mind, what if this is a pleasure of my life. I have contemplated suicide and attempted it a few more. What if now, ‘This’ disease is here to save and finish me. In a dignified way of course. As suicide is always a frowned upon course. Maybe i have created the work i was suppose too…. release the poems and art i should. Maybe i have changed a few lives, as i know a few have changed mine. I have done alot of good i know in my life, and been a good person to those i know and those i don’t, and those who haven’t deserved my time, but at least if I am lowered into the earth they will know they got more than they deserved and i can sleep peaceful. I tear slide down my face and the smile spread across my face. I own my thoughts and thats what i love about me, I’m not afraid to challenge those of a narrow or closed mind, not to win a argument but to enlighten their life’s. I have handed my notice into three magazines i write for and two support groups i run, one for young kids with self harm issues and one for support and counselling for parents of children who self harm and who have a mental disorder. My own mother do not even know of these jobs, or where i give my time willingly. My own mother knows nothing of my illness as i don’t see the point, she never made me feel ok or accepted for having a mental disorder. So why would she want to support me now, when she can just ignore and spend time with the ‘normal’ child she has. I am not bitter a part of me was. But i know i have done nothing wrong not to deserve what she has or has not done as the case stands. I am due now to turn down the book offer to have a book published, which i started to write. AS i don’t want to be stressed out right now. Writing books are hard. I have my university papers sat on my desk ready to submit to finish my last year. Even though when i printed them off i knew….. spending some time alone has made me think what do i want to be doing for a year? travelling,……… or photographing a series or two that will will remain should anything happen to me. As it’s not as simple as scrape and remove and then a few appointments to ensure things have been cut away. So maybe i will read, read every book i wanted to read. I will travel, travel to the places i want too. Maybe i will visit a few close friends who have been there from the start of my photography journey before i even knew it was a path i would go on to choose.

 

I will visit one man before the year is out. This time four and a half years ago, a man gave me the greatest tip in the world. (shadows) This man has a piece of my heart today. And i want to hold him in a embrace and thank him. For when i have doubted my work, my direction, the purpose of it all….. My darling Luca is there with his Italian charm. He has lasted longer than relationships and gave me more joy than most of them.  And even though i hate Germany, I will find him there.

 

Tomorrow i go and drive for a hour to a tattoo studio to be tattooed. The artist is amazing and I am dying to having this piece on me as for six years i have been in love with the concept of the piece. And i finally put it together and now i get to have a beautiful memoir of it. Then i will have my favourite poem inscribed on my thigh…. a quote or two more and when i lay on the slab or a cold mortuary cradle… I hope they read my tattoos and admire my artwork…. I will be a beautiful corpse in death as i was in life.

Now to try and sleep as seven hours of sleep in five days is something thats killing me. Stopping on lot of medication to be able to undergo treatment is a wonderful way to test my instability. But hey, it makes good pictures…. so at least my instability and insanity will never leave me….. never thought i would say i was actually grateful for that.

 

 

Coffee and cigarettes …

Its a early hours in the morning kind of blog again. Bipolar kicks my arse and sometimes i let it… its nice to feel something other than medicatedly numb.

I was inspired to buy a camera because my heart got broke… I knew nothing of the damn thing, only the man who broke my heart had one. He captured images of me i was his subject and his muse. Then my heart was broke and he became my muse. Every image was haunted with him. Things i wanted to say or scream, things i wish he would see. Other things i just needed to release… find a part of me. With every self portrait i looked at the mens, like i did before when he held it. I gave the expression with my eyes. As a model you are not allowed to pull a expression with your face, no muscles must move within your face but you must pull your emotion through your eyes as if it were your soul, your heart. And you had it over to the camera. As soon as that shutter shuts, its captured a part of your soul. Anyone can pout, and anyone can smile, but to say it with your eyes… and let someone read your mind and soul is being naked.

It was through my images i met another man….. I thought my heart was broken and i had lost the love of my life. Then ‘this’ man strolled in. Well strolled is the wrong word, more like crashed. And for the first time in so long i actually ‘felt’ i felt something other than hollowness…. emptiness and anger. I felt love again. We went through so much from him leading a double life. From anger and rage, from both of us. From trust issues to lies. From prison and restraining orders and random stalking and phone calls. Theres always that pull. I think in loving him, i lost a piece of me. Every image over the last three years has some way been inspired by him. If it wasn’t through hurt, or anger, or betrayal. It was through despair it was through confusion. It was through painful aching love and worthlessness i felt. He was my inspiration. Every hurtful word he would say, would inspire me in some way. Every lovely gesture would inspire me. He is my portfolio, of my emotions, my journey. I think because of the bipolar i may feel alot deeper or react alot stronger to situations. Maybe its the writer in me? maybe its the melancholic soul i have? Maybe its because i’m a hopeless romantic? Maybe its because i don’t want to believe i fell in love with a monster and then he turned me into one. Theres alot of maybes and questions and ill probably never get them answered not really. Truth is i don’t want them answered as then i’m in a reality of the real. I have never been much fond of that. Maybe i read to many books and enjoy being tragically in love. Where is the fun in being happy? Its alien to me, it scares me, it panics me. It terrifies me. At least when things are wrong you know they can get any worse. But to be happy and then to fall…….. i know what that feels like. The happier you are the higher the height you fall from. So my advice ‘ never get to happy, enjoy it, but don’t think it will last. Trust me it never does’

 

Now for the worst confession of all time……. ‘Happiness writes white’ If i am happy no images appear, if I am happy no poems are written. I am inspired by heartbreak, by depression, by pain and by being hurt. I am a fucked up girl.  Theres ‘life’ and ‘death’ and then there nothing but sadness in-between, thats what i capture…. thats what I release. Everyone can look at a pretty image, only those who know the colour of the depths of depression and pain can look at ones that aren’t pretty and see the beauty. I guess thats why i wont do pretty pictures…. I don’t want fame from my images or to be ‘well known’ I refuse commissions that aren’t my style and pass them on to someone else. I wont change my style or message to cater to the masses…. or the majority. I fit in with the minority. The people who have not only been to the edge … but know whats over it. But to do that i cant be happy. I look through my stream on flickr or 500px and i can tell you the month and reason and feeling and why that photo was created. When i go back to Oxford, my happy place, my safe place, my home. I never do a shoot or take a picture. I take my camera every time but i cant take a picture i’m too happy and safe…. Im too in awe at being peaceful and calm.  I have to now torture myself with the insecurities i have, the questions and the hurt and suffer i sustained through my last relationship to still create images. For as long as i do that i’m never to move on…..

 

Would i prefer to be a tortured artist or a happy wife/girlfriend with mundane pictures?

Tortured artist every time.  I don’t want to see the world as it is… I want to see it and the other worlds within it. I want to show people they aren’t alone…. everyone can relate to one of my images. When that stops happening i will sell my camera. I have decided however to challenge myself like only i can do….. I am going to do short fifteen second videos too. So now i need to learn how to edit videos. Because for the things i cannot capture in one shot ……. which is rare…. but maybe if i can maybe do video editing maybe it will help me overcome some of my inspirational block. Or maybe i just need to be with the person who breaks me best as thats the only time i feel inspired or alive.

The man….and me.

I have said before i do not blog enough. The bipolar i blame, for when i am manic i cannot write I’m too busy to be bothered. When I am low I am too disconnected and in a blanket of despair to write. Even though my lows are my most creative times, when i say creative i mean for writing poetry. I pour my emotions out on pictures of sunsets that day that have made me smile or made my heart a little less heavy to pull around. Then i have mu twitter which i have now changed to a different name in the hopes it remains anonymous somewhat from people who stalk it and condemn me for what i write. Even though its true. He was a lying cheating careless bastard. Anyway then i have my Facebook profile which i post very little on personally as i have a lot of people i do not know too well. Then i have my stagnate Facebook page that hasn’t see a new image in months. I haven’t picked up my camera for about three months. That is so unlike me, though i pick it up on Saturday to photograph a wedding. Not my creative hobby or outlet, but it pays the bills, makes me believe in love again if only for that one day. It means i cane be around people celebrating this wonderful day and present photos that will last a lifetime.

 

So for three months i have not used my outlet to photography anything. I did take it away on a spa break with my now Ex but again i did not take any images. The motivation was not there even though the ideas were. The visual picture was in my mind yet it never materialised into anything more. Normally after a break up (or three thousand with my ex) i would pick up my camera and pour my emotions into a image. Edit it. Release it and be freed as a prisoner from the pain the consuming emotions. Yet because of my bipolar i haven’t. I have had my medication adjusted and i have two new therapists. One of which i am so indebted too. I always thought therapy was a cop out for people who cannot deal with their own shit. And was full of proteins therapist with more certificates and text book intelligence and knowledge than actual experience. I was wrong or i struck it lucky this time. I wrote her a email from the contact page on her site. It was about 3 am in the morning and suicidal wasn’t even a close enough description of what i felt. I wanted to die, but suicide brings shame to ones family, so i imagined that night all the accidents i could be in, to maintain my families dignity. And keep the secret that i willed the house fire and laid in bed waiting for my death with excited anticipation. I didn’t know what to write in the email, do you introduce yourself as a person with a mental health disorder or do you just say hey i need your help i think i lost my mind, fancy helping me find it. Ill pay you. Or do you pour your heart out and if nothing else, and deal with the judgement and embarrassment? Well i took the risk and spilled my heart all over her contact sheet. As i slowly fell into my sleep i could only hope that there was some miracle in her reply. There was.

We met to see if i felt comfortable, as i don’t normally.  Yet i did instantly. I think it was more to do with the fact that i was utterly desperate for help or a solution that i would of trusted Hitler if he had said he had a cure. Four weeks ago i was that bad. Now? Im not better I’m not cured, I’m more stable and a bit happier, i have more confidence and i actually have learnt so much about myself. Its actually quite scary as i always thought myself as very self aware. Even the therapist commented on how self aware I am. I learnt a lot about my last relationship which has left me really messed up. I learnt about transference and can identify when this was happening. Even so much as a few weeks ago. I had a nasty email, which is a regular occurrence from the ex when we aren’t together and he hasn’t got some girl talking to him as a distraction. Or when he’s bored of them, or fed up of pretending to be a nice person, as he must find that exhausting.  It was about me having therapy and i had said that he has issues and through my therapist reading emails and text messages from the last few months that i had printed off that he has issues and would benefit from seeking help. He’s still in denial theres anything wrong with him, all the blame goes on other people. He hates guilt and obligation. Anyway I told him i was getting help to sort my issues out and the ones he had left me with and i was going to see my therapist on Wednesday at her house.  I normally see her in Cardiff bay, but she works on a self employed basis so she has a room off the main building of her house in which she uses as some people do not like the clinical feel. These people are normally her regulars and people who live closer or find it easier to travel to where she is. Anyway my negative ex proceeded in his email to tell me that she was not a real therapist if she had people at her house. That the price i was paying i was getting ripped off and the fact she seen he had issues just looking over his messages and emails shows she is unqualified. So there we go there is the introduction to my Ex instead of being supportive he was putting me down, my decisions and my experiences based on his…….???? exactly he’s never seen a therapist, God knows he should. But he always said I make up things in my head and go to war with them, that i take fictional stuff and use it as reality. Or my favourite one was that i had no logic in the way i think. I think his quote was ‘ You are one of the most intelligent people i have ever met, but you are the dumbest fuck to as you have no logic’ Exactly how would your mum and dad feel about him being around the dinner table? Parents are right for a lot of reasons.

So Tell me even though he has no experience or knowledge of therapists or their work its LOGICAL for him to make up FICTIONAL ASSUMPTIONS regarding what i know as fact. The thing I’m having therapy for is because of how manipulative he was and how he would always make me doubt my decisions and logic and thoughts. Quite sick really. I feel sick knowing it. I didn’t think the same as him, and he would always use my metal illness as thats why he was right and i was wrong. If its said enough times along with discriminating names and insults you kinda believe it. I did.

SO four weeks with my therapist, and people do think different to one another, thats why the word argument/debate exists thats why there are discussions in a relationship and compromise because people think different. These are based on the persons childhood experiences, family, culture, and many even beliefs. They are based on interpretation of situations experience with situations, knowledge and education level of people, peoples likes and dislikes. And ITS OK. It is ok to think and interpret the world differently to the person in-front of you at the queue, the neighbour, the family member the step parent the husband the boyfriend the bloody homeless man on the street. And each persons interpretation and opinion is as valuable as the other persons. It should not be degraded, devalued, disregarded or should it be seen as wrong. Or used as a tool to control or discriminate against. ITS OK. Thats what i have learnt its ok. Its ok that I believe that when we end our relationship and he flirts and sends explicit messages of himself to girls and receives them in return that i am right to see it as wrong, disrespectful and sleazy. Why am i ok to think this is right? because based on who I am, i do not do that to him, i do not degrade myself or our relationship when we end by causing myself more damage. I have more respect for myself that to expose my body to strangers, for them to masturbate over. I have more respect for myself as a woman and a lady to masturbate over pictures of a stranger opposed to sorting my relationship or issues out. I do do such things as i know if me and my partner resolve issues that i would feel terrible knowing what i had done. That the most intimate parts of my body that i pledge to someone i love have been carelessly given to a stranger. I have more respect for my partner for myself for my female counterparts. I am right to behave this way as my morals and principals tell me that sleazy type of behaviour is damaging to myself to other and to my relationship and any potential reconciliation i would have. This makes me think that I am right and what he is doing is wrong. As i have a different set of beliefs and morals and mature experience and respect towards myself and my relationship and partner/ex partner.

Now the opposing story i have been told when i have found out my partner/ ex partner has been doing this just hours after our break up is ‘I wanted to take my mind of you’ ‘I missed you’ I liked the attention’ ‘Its easier to talk to girls’ ‘I never physically done anything with them’ – Now these were a few of the lame excuses I was told. I was essentially disgusted at how willingly girls would send such pictures and act in such a trampy way. I was devastated that he would do this and it would make me feel worthless, competing with other girls who i classed as ‘skets’ a bit like slags. I found myself not wanting to argue or displease him in fear of him doing this again and me feeling so low. I also felt very ashamed of him as a partner. As the thought of passing one of them girls in the street after him and her had been so intimate made me feel sick. How could i hold my head high and say i have a decent gentlemen that treats me with respect when i – an she would know different. This happened 90% of the time in our break ups. Yet i was at fault for when we broke up accusing him of doing something like this again, when the probability was high. And then was i suppose to be grateful if he didn’t? I remember saying to my friend one day over coffee ‘******** has been good not flirted or talked to another girl in 6 weeks’ My friend was disgusted by the sentence that left my mouth and then so was I. When did i become the person that i was grateful for my partner to be loyal and faithful and not lie. AS lying was his first language, bullshit his second, manipulation this third and English his fourth. Its funny as he always wanted to speak another language yet he didn’t see how many he was already fluent in. Anyway, I looked closer to him and not myself. HE was perverted to be alone in his car or studio and be having lonely hand wanks over images of girls he didn’t know. He had no respect for himself or these girls, or me. He had no standards or morals or principals. He would talk to these girls and manipulate them into sending him pictures. He had no feelings for them apart from maybe a dick twitch that needed releasing. It was him that acted in a way i wouldn’t of and if i had acted in the same was as him JESUS CHRIST i would be all the whores and slags and disgusting whores going. Double standards right? Do you smell hypocrisy like i do now? It wasn’t that he missed me or wanted a distraction from me. It was when i would end us or walk away I took with me his power. His power to control me, to use me, I took it away. I wouldn’t obey him, or be manipulated by him or please him. Sooooooo what does a control freak need to do?. control! So he used another girl to manipulate to control, and that would obey him so he wouldn’t feel as if he lost his power.

I sit here writing this and wonder if i should even hit the send button and let this be torn apart by the world, read and picked over. If i should be ashamed of the person i was to stay with him to take so much….. or if it will reach some other girl and she will actually see… theres nothing wrong with her the problem does not lie with her but with him. Its a harsh realisation but one that sets you on a journey. See the most prominent thing i learnt from this is that my Ex liked to be someone else. As he was a very unhappy, insecure person. I found a lot of closure from someone he knew. I understand his childhood but i won’t use it as a excuse for his behaviour. We all have choices as adults. What we choose to do what action we choose to take defines us as who we really are. A excuse afterwards does not change that you have been a twat. It just makes it easier for you to get out of the guilt or not face up to who you really are. I remember him saying to me ‘ I can make anyone fall in love with me’ ‘I can get anyone i want’ – at first i thought what a ego and arrogance.

NOW? I see if you have the skills to manipulate and the insecurities most people have you transform into a monster. You play a role, you act, you become someone that the other person you are talking too wants to see. Everyone believes in love and are romantics all a guy has to do is press the right buttons. And he will if he has the skills and insecurities mine had. Thats why he liked talking to these girls and flirting as they didn’t know who he was, what he was capable of, they didn’t know him like i did. They didn’t know about his violent temper, his acid tongues ( he had his spilt in two, kinda ironic as he was a snakey bastard) They didn’t know the names he would not hesitate to lash you with how he would always keep you below him so he felt above you. That he would be so mean, that he was a compulsive lair, a person on medication for his temper and undiagnosed mental health disorder. He would not tell these girls he had a girlfriend ( oh yes he done it when we were together as well) he would even tell them that i was a stalker? I was his girlfriend of two years! But this boy would not want anyone to see him in a bad light. JESUS CHRIST HES SAINT FUCKING PAUL.  He couldn’t get away with the pretence with me, i knew he was a liar i knew what his hands felt like and i knew what his tongue was capable of and his controlling ways. These girls didn’t. That was the part he liked the best as he could for those couple of moments or hours pretend to be the person i believe he would like to be, but for whatever reason he choses not to be.

After three years i walked, I don’t want to go back, I should of left nine months into our relationship when i found out he was still seeing his ex… and six months after that when he was still seeing her and they were both lying cunts. I don’t blame her so much now, she was only told what he told her. She was stupid for believing him as i never did…. but thats another story. Its weird she hurt me so much and so did he, she had no loyalties to me and neither should she of…. she wasn’t my girlfriend, my friend or anything. But he was. Yet i still stayed with him. And for a while i was the only girl in his world. But that wasn’t enough, and i realised id never be enough for him. Because he wasn’t happy in himself about himself to be happy with someone else. He didn’t love himself so how could he love someone else. How can you receive love from another person if you can’t love yourself. He will never be happy or content. He wants to travel and i believe he should, it may make him grow up, it may make him see his issues. Though i have found out he has a new girlfriend.

 

Did this come as a shock, yeah in a way. Its only been five weeks since we split. An only four days since he stopped emailing. But yes she seems naive and she seems like a hopeless romantic. So he don’t have to manipulate her that much. He probably didn’t introduce himself by saying he was convicted of assault on his ex girlfriend or that he has a restraining order to not go near his ex girlfriend. He probably won’t tell her how early he split from me, and he probably won’t tell her the languages he speaks fluently. Poor Sarah thats all i can say. She has it all to come. And does a part of me want to reach out and save her from what i endured how fucked up i got and all his other exes, yes. What stops me? The fact he speaks fluent bullshit, compulsive lair amongst the others. Why don’t i save her? Because some people do not want to be saved, he didn’t want to be saved or changed. He improved massively and everything he got to this day in some way comes from me, from his job and his car from his travel destinations and more pronounceable vocabulary, from the way he dresses and holds himself in new company. The way he views certain things. I know in years to come he will love back and say ‘fuck, she loved me so purely’ And i did. I never wanted nothing from him, just love trust and honesty the foundations of any relationship. I just wanted a guy to look at me and see the potential we had. I gave him everything, my home, my heart, my time, my forgiveness, my family my car, my daughter, my passion, my knowledge, my beliefs i gave him all of me. I even gave him my mind to own. And now i have to heal it myself.

I was so upset when i found out he had ‘moved on’ as neither one of us ever does, we never physically do anything with anyone, and he never took it to the next level of giving his number out or meeting in person. And after a few days the girls he’s talking to loose their flavour to him. And he always came back to me. In a way i thought i had his heart, thats why he came back, as he knew how much i meant to him. I hoped this i suppose. As all us fools do. I thought enough flavourless girls would make him see that i was the best choice out of them all and he would change his ways. I hoped that he would see every time he hurt me yet i would take him back it was because i loved him. Not that i won some game. Just that i loved and believed enough in him to help him change. But I just wasted time and opportunities. Now he’s found someone else and we will never be the same, i will never look at him the same. And when i found out i cried, i cried so hard infant of my friend i let her hug me and i sobbed on the floor with her arms around me holding me up.

I went to see my therapist yesterday and i told her. I cried again and asked why the fucking hell was i crying and sad when i wouldn’t get back with him now!! why do i feel so emotional after i know i don’t want US back. For £60 a hour this is what i got….

 

“A person stands infront of two doors….

The one door she is told hell and pain is behind there her worst fears….

The other door….. no one knows what is behind it….. he doesn’t no or will she until she opens it and walks in and clicks it shut behind her.

-Most people choose hell and pain and their worst fears because as humans we develop coping mechanisms and a tolerance to these experiences these pains. We have a idea of what to expect so have a idea of how to deal with it. Its better the devil you know sometimes.”

 

I broke down crying so hard i emptied her box of tissues. I was sad because my option ‘ better the devil i knew’ was now taken away. I knew from him and overtime i took him back how he would act, treat me, what to expect, how i would feel, how i had developed coping mechanisms how i have a developed a tolerance to the pain or a immunity. I was upset that now if i didn’t like being on my own, i couldn’t go back to my devil. He brought me good and bad fear and anxiety, he took my insecurities and made them a reality then would condemn me for them.  Now i have no anxiety, I have no bad to expect, as i have no one to expect it from. No one is going to hurt me, i have good coming from my projects. I have a mobile home that i will start traveling in, in April then do Europe in In September till i decide to come home. Also i have flights booked to Iceland and a few other destinations. I have no insecurities as I’m not competing with any girls or the person i love will not betray me. I have no one insulting me or my bipolar disorder. I have no one being nasty and mean to me. I have no anxiety of him slipping up or being interested in another girl. And not just another bump but the bandages from all the other ‘mistakes, slip ups, girls, flirting’ are ripped off bringing everything back and killing me all over again. I have no one putting me down controlling me or messing with my mind. If i think different to someone else THATS OK it human nature to think different, no two people are the same. I have accomplished more in these five weeks since not being with him than i realised.

I have rebuild a relationship with my mum, which i appreciate and hold dear, i have strengthen the relationship between my daughter and I. I have a wonderful positive relationship with my Dad. I have bought a mobile home, gutted it refurbished it and i love it. Its a little home i can take anywhere with me. It has a coffee machine and it has everything i love thats quirky and me. I have emptied my attic of all my exes things. They have all been taken to the tip when i gutted the caravan. From his Cds to his furry throw. Everything of him has gone, pictures and gifts i have taken down. Not because i am bitter but because they don’t mean anything no more they are a anchor or reminder of a period in my life i no longer want in my present. I have had a book offer for my novel. I have a lot of weddings booked. I have projects lined up and i had the passion light up inside me when i was in therapy tomorrow when it came to a photoshoot. I have had male attention and a lot of it, it was nice and it felt strange. I have pushed it all away, no one i want to talk to or give my precious time to at the moment apart from myself. I am investing in a new camera. I am  writing a lot of poetry and i feel inspired with it, a freeing from it. I have three tattoos booked in for the tenth of march one to be reworked/covered and two new ones. I have developed a sense of self again. I have my appointment with my nurse ad i think i am going to have a bit of botox. I have my new silver/grey hair i have wanted for the last six months. I have new medication and I have new friends. And my old one i love to the marrow of her bones. I am investing in a new website so i can house my photography and poems and travels. I want to have somewhere to call my own, and i have a few more poems that are awaiting publication. I have learnt how to apply make up too……Every day it gets better. Even when I’m sobbing its still better because I’m learning and realising things about myself…… And my therapist is great. No matter what anyone else thinks she is having a positive impact on me… which means i can be positive around others and live my life…..

The better the devil i knew has gone so now…I have the unknown to venture through, to make my life and include in it whatever i want. Sometimes someone crosses your path and blows your world apart your emotions and mental stability. Because how else are you meant to put it all back together how you want to, how you deserve, and know what you deserve, if you don’t learn. My picture is not complete and I’m rebuilding my world….. while he is talking to a girl…. when the flavour fades i hope he sees a therapist and heals himself one day. Theres enough negative and bad people in this world, he should not want to be one too.

 

 

I am not sorry……………..

These last few weeks have been another rolla-coaster. I have started uni and college back up, i have had a relationship break down due to infidelity (his not mine, as usual) and I have enjoyed some of the best days of my life in his absence. It is funny how these break ups work, as before i had a ache when we broke up, A void i desperately tried to fill, with coffee, activities, reading and outings, alongside obviously my poetry and my photography. Now, there is no ache. The ache became so strong because i was so weak. He had the power, he made me feel unworthy, and unequal, so i took the power back and stopped loving him. I did, and it worked. I seen him for who he was, and i realised that he never made me happy, or feel safe or secure. He did nothing positive for me, but i loved him anyway. Thats the cruel thing about love, sometimes you have to be hurt to the point of being dead, before you can be resurrected. When you know, hey this isn’t my fault, your whole world changes, your self worth changes and you perspective changes.

See it is them we always think have to change, they have to stop cheating, they have to stop lying, they have to stop being so selfish. This is absurd because it isnt them that has to change it is you, you have to change. Its you that has to not want to be treated like this anymore and stop allowing them to treat you like this, only them will your life, your heart and soul heal.

This image is a very simple image, and thats what i wanted it to be, because of the simplicity of life, and freedom, and what living is. You can have a simple life if you choose or you can complicate your life. I chose to finally give myself some much needed simplicity and it is the most valuable and beautiful thing i have done for myself. This shoot was the best day of my year, i spent it with my friend and daughter. We swan we laughed we shot, and we ate, and we relaxed. I was free of anxiety, of stress, my mind for once was completely focused on the day i was in the day mentally and emotionally as well as physically. I wasn’t thinking, ‘what is he doing’ i wasn’t looking at my phone, i was fearing what he was up to or who he was speaking to. I was just living for me, and it felt amazing. I know how hard a break up can be i know how hard it is some days to even get out of bed, or even make it through a hour without crying. I understand the sense of loss and the sense of loneliness i do. I have been through it all, never thinking you will ever smile or feel normal again, or even happy. But it happens, i promise, i really do, the moment you start concentrating on you.

Then the inevitable comes, the message from him, the apology, the realisation of what he has done. But I am not sorry, I am not sorry he done what he done, he done me a favour, he killed the last bit of me. And i thank him for that because from my death i was reborn.  And sorry means nothing when its done again and again, he was only sorry he got caught again. I am sorry i stayed too long I am sorry i made so many excuses for him, I am sorry i wasn’t better to myself, and loved myself more to walk away sooner. Don’t relieve my mistakes, know your self worth and never let anyone devalue you…….